


Not For Everyone

by colazitron



Category: Ed Sheeran (Musician), One Direction
Genre: Barebacking, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-05
Updated: 2012-11-05
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:33:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Ed get high. And then horny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not For Everyone

**Not For Everyone**

 

Harry loves being at the studio with Ed. He loves sitting and watching him work, loves listening to songs grow, loves occasionally getting to help out by carrying a simple harmony, loves throwing balled up paper at him to annoy Ed and even loves when Ed inevitably kicks him and whoever else is hanging around out so he can actually get some fucking work done. It’s usually then that he decides to make himself useful and go about organising some sort of food source, because sooner or later, Ed will - sometimes literally - crawl out of the recording booth in search of nourishment and it’s just a nice thing to do to make sure that he doesn’t have to wait for it then, isn’t it?

This time the general consensus calls for a barbecue, since the weather’s lovely and it’d be a shame to waste it. So Harry hops in the car, enlists the help of a few of Ed’s friends who tower over even him and drives them around to get groceries and coal for the grill. He takes all the housewife jokes in stride and smirks at them smugly when he’s the only one who can actually get the fire going. It’s how he ends up flipping steaks, sausages and burger patties with the huge tongs in one hand and a beer in the other, Ray-Bans perched on his nose, while Ed’s hilariously large friends are cutting up veggies on the nearby table for a bowl of salad. The smell of sizzling meat finally lures Ed and Chris out of the studio and into the back garden as well. Harry gets a few pats on the back, a few more comments about what a lovely housewife he’ll make some day and even a tweet or two about their barbecue and it’s all laughter, food and beer from then on.

When the sun settles into dusk, Harry and Ed are already the only two left of their little group. It’s still a regular work day, which means most people have places to be the following day and the rest either begged off or came here in people’s cars with people who needed to leave earlier than they themselves maybe would’ve. Harry doesn’t remember how many beers he’s had before the one he’s nursing right now, but he’s happy and relaxed, so when Ed pulls a baggie with three pre-rolled joints from his pocket, he shrugs and nods. Ed lights two of them before handing one to Harry and lying back on the patio, closing his eyes. Harry stares out over the darkening garden, watching the smoke above the grill that’s not entirely gone out yet twirl up into the sky and trying to make the smoke he exhales match up with it. Ed goes through his joint faster, Harry being not as used to the sensation of smoke invading his lungs. When Ed lights up the last one with a mischievous smile, Harry takes a particularly deep drag of his own, watching the fire consume quite a bit of the crushed leaves and paper. Ed’s lazily smoking at his second joint, while Harry hurries to catch up.

“Oy, don’t hog it,” he complains and Ed just grins and exhales in his direction. Harry waves the smoke away from his face with a pointed cough, but Ed just laughs and takes another drag. Before he can blow the smoke at him again, Harry leans down over him, opening his own mouth to hover over Ed’s and breathing in the smoke just as he exhales. Ed hums pleasantly, seemingly not at all bothered by this change of events and turns his head to the side to take another careless drag of the joint. This time though he tilts his chin up so his lips are hovering right below Harry’s and carefully lets the smoke flow from his own mouth right into Harry’s. Their lips aren’t touching, but only barely. Ed turns his head away, inhales, turns back and breathes into Harry’s mouth who turns away to exhale again, all the while their eyes are locked onto each other’s. The smiles growing on their faces are making it increasingly difficult to keep it up, little giggles shaking them both. Their mouths bump together as they’re both trembling with laughter until Ed turns away to take another hit. He doesn’t breathe at Harry this time, instead propping his arm up on his elbow, offering the joint to Harry, who wraps his lips around the end and takes a drag of his own. Harry does blow the smoke right at Ed’s face.

“Little shit,” Ed grumbles, but then he takes another drag and breathes back and laughs when Harry’s eyes water. Harry grabs for Ed’s wrist to hold his hand still to take his own drag again and this time it’s Ed who opens his mouth for the smoke. He hums his appreciation deep in his chest before exhaling the last bits of smoke again and then taking the last drag of the joint. Pushing the bud into the patio to extinguish the flame, he turns back to Harry.

“C’m ‘ere,” he says, voice tight with trying to keep the smoke in and lifting the fingers that held onto the joint only moments ago to curl into the loose collar off Harry’s t-shirt and drag him down a bit further still. He pushes their open mouths together, fitting his lips to Harry’s so the smoke can’t escape, before exhaling slowly. Harry’s face is blurry before his half-lidded eyes and his body’s radiating heat above his own. With a sigh that pushes smoke out his nostrils like some sort of very docile dragon, Harry’s eyes fall shut. There can barely be any smoke left between the two of them, so Ed moves his lips against Harry’s in something that is definitely a kiss. Harry makes a surprised noise and pulls back so he can stare down at him, eyes wide and lips wet. They’re far too pretty to be all the way up there.

“Don’t tell me you’re suddenly coy?” Ed mocks, fingers still curled in Harry’s t-shirt.

“Didn’t think you’d be up for it,” Harry says.

“I’m up for it,” Ed says and, as if to prove it, pushes both his hands down the back pockets of Harry’s jeans, grabbing at his skinny arse and pulling him down on top of him decisively. Harry laughs a throaty, raspy laugh.

“Alright,” he says and re-attaches their lips with a lot more vigor than the soft touches before. There’s no time wasted between them as Harry shuffles one leg in between Ed’s and they simultaneously open their mouths to each other’s tongues. It’s wet and messy and Ed’s heart beats like a bass drum in his ears. His body’s running hot and the ground sways and turns beneath him like the sea. He lets himself be swept up in it, clutching Harry closer and thinking that at least he won’t drown alone. Not for the first time he wishes he could plug a cable right from his brain into someone else’s so he could know what something feels like to them first hand. As it is all he has to go on are Harry’s huffs of breath and the way his hips grind down against Ed’s.

“Easy,” he teases right into Harry’s mouth, though he has no intention of slowing down himself and will, quite honestly, be rather upset if Harry actually does.

“Nuh-uh,” Harry mumbles, never one to disappoint, and licks over Ed’s lips before biting at them, making the blood rush to the surface and pulse so heavily that Ed can feel it. It’s like the most pleasant headache he’s ever had. Harry keeps alternately scraping his tongue and teeth over Ed’s mouth and sucking at his lips, but never quite giving in to Ed’s attempts to pull him into another kiss. It gets immensely frustrating pretty quickly and Ed draws his hands out of Harry’s jeans to grab at his face and hold him still. Harry though is not to be deterred and pins first one and then the other hand down to the wooden floor of the patio, clamping his huge hands around Ed’s upper arms just above his elbow, leaving him room to move but nowhere to move his hands to. So all Ed can do is clutch at Harry’s shoulders with his smaller hands and reel up against him in the hopes of shaking him off. Judging by the grin Harry presses against his cheek, he’s noticed how very much that is not going to happen as well. Harry’s taller and stronger than him. The only thing Ed might have on him is sheer body mass, but in his current position that doesn’t do him any good.

“Not gonna happen,” Harry whispers, voice rough and curling through Ed’s ears and around his brain like the smoke colouring it. He drags his teeth down the stubbled line of Ed’s jaw, chasing and causing shivers up and down his spine alike. Ed wants to _kiss_ him again, but Harry’s being a right little tease, biting at all the parts of Ed’s face that he very much _does not care about_ right now instead of coming back to where he wants him the most.

“Fuck, come on,” he hisses and bucks against him, trying to get his point across.

“Yeah, yeah, no rush,” Harry grins, but gives in and kisses him again anyway; filthy and deep and stealing every last vestige of breath Ed may have had left. He’s starting to wonder if this was really such a good idea, but the blood in his veins downright sings and he really can’t say he minds the way his cock is starting to fatten up and strain against the confines of his underwear. Harry’s hands pass up along Ed’s arms, grip firm and his fingers spanning most of them easily. He pushes his thumbs underneath the fabric of Ed’s t-shirt and into the soft flesh of his arm pit, somehow managing to make the drag of his thumb there more sensual than ticklish and pulling a moan out of the depths of Ed’s chest. He leans back then, sitting up over Ed’s hips and it’s then that Ed realises that Harry’s let go of his arms, meaning he can move them again. They lift up to grab at Harry’s hair to tug him down again immediately and Harry tries to hold still and hisses when Ed gives a particularly decisive tug. He’s not done with Harry’s mouth yet.

“Fuck,” Harry says through clenched teeth and leans down again to bite a hard, fast kiss into Ed’s mouth, leaving him no room to breathe and his head spinning a bit when he pulls back again. There’s a tear in the hem of the old t-shirt Ed’s wearing and Harry winds his hands into the fabric to the right and left of it, grinning like a devil. It takes a moment for Ed’s brain to catch up with what he wants to do.

“Don-” is the furthest he gets with his protest before Harry pulls, biceps straining, knuckles turning white from how tightly he holds on as the fabric gives way and rips. The noise is loud even over their harsh breaths and Ed finds himself staring, transfixed by the way the dark green gives way to the milky white of his own skin under Harry’s hands. His eyes flick up to Harry’s arms, watching the tight bulge of his muscles and subconsciously licking his lips. Briefly he wonders if Harry could tear him open like that, before he remembers how gross that would be and pushes the thought aside.

“Fuck,” he says, when the collar rips and his shirt is well and truly ruined. Harry shakes out his hair and grins down at him, a bit shark like.

“Baby Tarzan,” Ed says.

“Baby Jane,” Harry teases back and Ed reaches out to swat at Harry’s cheek. He misjudges and ends up slapping him far harder than he intended, both of them shocked into silence at the harsh sound of skin hitting skin, Harry’s face turned away instinctively, moved by the force of Ed’s hand.

“Sorry, fuck,” Ed curses, scrabbling up to inspect the damage, but Harry grabs his shoulders and slams him back down onto the floor. Ed huffs out a harsh breath, wincing as his shoulders hit the wood. He figures he deserved that.

“Soon enough, darling,” Harry says and ducks down, teeth clamping down on one of Ed’s nipples. Ed yelps in surprise and a little in pain and scrabbles for hold in Harry’s t-shirt and his hair to pull him off. Harry laughs and drags a finger over the abused little nub. A shiver visibly goes through Ed at that and Harry’s eyes flicker up to his, a delighted smile on his face.

“Kinky, little gingerbread man.”

“Not actually edible,” Ed says, but there’s no real conviction in his protest and his hands are still wound into Harry’s hair and the fabric of his t-shirt.

“I beg to differ,” Harry mumbles and leans down to suck and nibble a bruise over Ed’s sternum. Ed bites his lip at the sensation and his fingers grapple at Harry’s t-shirt, dragging it up his back so he can get to the skin underneath more easily. Harry hums contently and sucks sharply at Ed’s nipple again, earning himself short nails digging into his back, his hum changing into a harsher growl at the sensation. Ed will deny it to his dying day but he may actually whimper at the sound, dragging the shirt up even higher to try and get it over Harry’s head, not caring if he stretches it out. They fight with it for a moment, before Harry sits up with a huff and whips it up over his head, letting it drop to the ground next to them, before pulling Ed up and pushing the remnants of his shirt off his shoulders as well.

“You’re so stupidly fit, you arse,” Ed says, nails dragging down over Harry’s chest, as if he’s this close to scratching him up, just to mar him a little bit.

“I try,” Harry only says with a grin and cradles Ed’s head in his fucking massive hand to pull him into another messy kiss. At this point Ed’s not sure if the continuous buzz in his veins comes from the drugs or is mostly fuelled by Harry’s kisses. He doesn’t particularly care to find out. It still all feels incredibly wonderful, his skin tingles everywhere Harry touches and as long as he’s otherwise occupied he’s not about to break out into giggles either, so he falls into the kiss and lets Harry push him back down onto the patio. This kiss is slower than the others before, lips rubbing together until they’re as wet outside as they are inside before their tongues even get to join the game. When Ed finally does lick up into Harry’s mouth, Harry makes the most pleased, rumbly sound. Ed grabs his waist in return, holding him close so he can’t go anywhere until he’s made him make that sound again. Harry’s tongue is lazy where it brushes up against his and Ed gets so lost in all the soft sounds Harry makes that he can’t remember which one it was he’s wanted to hear again by the time Harry pulls back to graze his teeth over the tendons in Ed’s neck and nuzzle into his collar bones.

“Want you,” he says into the skin there. “Want to fuck you.”

Ed squeaks a bit and probably blushes, but holds Harry close nonetheless.

“I haven’t,” he tries to say, “haven’t...”

Harry abruptly stops running his mouth over Ed’s chest and pushes himself up to look down at him, curiosity in his hazy eyes.

“What, ever?”

“No, just. Not for. Not recently.”

“But you’ll let me,” Harry says more than he asks, leaning back down to press a kiss in between Ed’s eyebrows, then one to the tip of his nose, his lips, his chin, before grazing his nose along the column of Ed’s throat. “You’ll let me, yeah?”

Ed wasn’t going to say no anyway, he’d more wanted to inform Harry than give him reason to reconsider, but he appreciates the seduction either way.

“Yeah,” he says, a bit breathless with the thought of it. “Yeah, come on.”

He tugs Harry back up by the hair for another kiss, briefly hoping that Harry won’t have any bald patches come morning. Harry hums into the kiss and squeezes one hand between Ed and the floor, going for a cheeky grope of his bum.

“I can make it so good, Ed,” Harry promises into the warmth of his mouth. “Gonna make it so good for you. Get you moaning for it. Make you slick and wet for me. Dripping like a girl, yeah? I bet you’re gorgeous with your legs spread.”

“Fuck, Haz,” Ed breathes, head spinning.

“Hm, yeah. Wanna get my mouth on you first. Taste you. Can I?”

Harry doesn’t really wait for an answer, pulling at Ed’s belt before he has a chance to say anything. Ed’s not complaining, though. Quite the opposite, actually. He lifts his hips up so Harry can pull his jeans and boxers down over them, head filled with visions of Harry’s plush, spit-slick lips stretched around him.

“You’ve not had a mouth like mine,” Harry says and Ed’s inclined to agree. There aren’t many mouths like Harry’s to begin with. He’s pretty sure if he’d encountered one, he’d’ve remembered.

“Do it,” he just says, impatient and pushing Harry’s head further down his body. Harry’s not bothered by it, laughing throatily at him instead. He gets up on his knees and grabs Ed’s waist and Ed is so sure he’ll duck down to lap at his almost completely hard cock, it’s a bit of a shock when he turns him around onto his front instead. Ed has to help the movement along a bit, too surprised to really stop anything of what’s going on. It’s when Harry’s hands grab hold of his butt cheeks and spread them open that he gets what’s really happening. There’s a whimpery breath that escapes him at the thought and then Harry’s spreading him open and licking a broad stripe over his hole. Ed’s voice gets stuck in his throat and he huffs a heavy breath instead. He feels tense all over, muscles tight not only where Harry’s touching him but everywhere. Harry licks up along the cleft of his arse and sinks his teeth into the skin right above Ed’s tailbone, a teasing, sharp little nip that makes his blood pulse there heavily.

“Haz,” Ed says, breathy and almost begging even though he’s not sure for what. Harry shushes him and runs his huge palms up and down Ed’s back in motions probably meant to be soothing. They are, somewhat, but they also make Ed shiver with how much he wants.

“Haz,” he says again, more urgently this time. Harry chuckles against his back and leans over him, jeans clad thighs brushing Ed’s naked ones when he kisses the nape of his neck and then drags his teeth down along the line of Ed’s spine. His mouth does return to Ed’s arse then and this time it stays there. It’s not something Ed’s done a lot, even when he was in the habit of fucking around with friends a bit more regularly than he does now, but Harry seems to really love it, tracing shapes into Ed’s skin with his tongue that he has no hope of recognising and running his hands up and down his thighs when he’s not holding him open. It feels unfamiliar, but in the best, most exciting way and to be honest at this point Ed is so wound up, he’d go along with quite a lot just for the simple, physical pleasure of it.

One of Harry’s hands lets go of Ed and he only has time to be confused for a very brief moment before he feels the tip of Harry’s finger rub at his hole underneath Harry’s lips. He’s not pushing in at all yet, just rubbing around the rim, teasing. Ed pushes back against it thoughtlessly, his cock straining towards his belly and arousal humming underneath his skin.

“Come on,” he says, when Harry doesn’t react. Harry pulls his finger back this time and Ed makes a disgruntled noise, before his ears catch the soft ‘pop’ of Harry pulling it back out of his mouth and then it’s back, wiggling inside him slowly. It’s strange, the way the first finger always is and possibly a bit more so because it’s been a while and there’s nothing to ease the way but spit, but Harry’s fingers are thin and long, rather than short and stubby, so it’s not too much of a stretch. Harry tries to move his finger but mostly can’t, their skin too dry. He buries his frustrated groan in the small of Ed’s back.

“Please tell me you have lube.”

“Bathroom,” Ed says and shuffles to his feet as soon as Harry moves away from him. Harry grabs his upper arm to keep him steady when he almost trips over the jeans that have fallen to around his ankles. Harry’s touch still feels like he’s leaving marks on Ed’s body. He makes to pull his trousers up, but Harry leans in closer and curls his free hand around Ed’s, stopping him.

“Leave them. You’re not gonna need them.”

Ed has to bark a laugh, because this is _ridiculous_ but he toes them off anyway. He trusts Harry to follow him when he walks back into the studio, but he can’t resist a quick look over his shoulder and _god_ , but Harry’s a vision. Hair a mess, cheeks flushed, lips kiss-swollen, torso on display, tattoos and tight little muscles and all, jeans slung low on his hips with the waistband of his briefs peeking out, bare feet. Ed takes a shuddery breath and licks his lips before facing forward again and briskly walking across the tiny living room area into the even tinier bathroom. Harry follows him with a laugh, no doubt having seen Ed’s thoughts written all over his face. Who gave Harry permission to be that fit anyway.

There’s a cupboard with mirrors for doors hung over the sink in the bathroom and Ed’s pretty sure he’s seen a bottle or two of lube in there. When he gets the door of it open, there’s chaos everywhere, knick knacks lying around or heaped into little baskets, but the bottle of lube is pretty easy to spot and Harry reaches past him for it, while Ed continues to rummage around for a condom. He doesn’t notice that Harry’s not just been watching him until he tucks a decidedly slick finger back inside him without preamble. Ed hisses in surprise and knocks one of the little baskets over, it and its contents clattering down into the sink.

“Keep looking,” Harry says, but there’s a grin in his voice that belies his seemingly calm demeanour. Ed grits his teeth and does, hands shaking a bit while Harry pushes his finger back and forth experimentally before pushing a second one in alongside it. It’s absolutely, terribly distracting and Ed has to cling to the porcelain of the sink with one hand, while he uses the other to continue rifling through all the random things that have accumulated in the cupboard over time. Every now and then there’s a breathy little noise that falls from his lips, but he really doesn’t think he can be blamed for that when Harry keeps prodding around inside his arse, taking his fingers out only to return them with yet more lube, seemingly fully intend on following through on his earlier promises.

“This isn’t helping,” Ed presses out through his teeth, his fingers clenching around the edge of the sink.

“But it’s fun,” Harry says into his ear, warm breath washing over Ed’s skin and raising goose bumps. When he pushes a third finger inside, he pulls his fingers up a little and Ed automatically follows the movement, going up onto the balls of his feet and having to put his second hand down onto the sink as well for balance. Harry places dry kisses up the column of his neck and nuzzles the increasingly warm space behind his ear, dragging his fingers in and out lazily. Ed tries hard not to whimper, but Harry’s close enough to radiate heat against his back and still all he can feel of him are his fingers and his arm brush against his back and the occasional kisses and nibbles. It’s maddening and strangely erotic and all his body is tense and he just wants this now, but he still hasn’t found a condom and Harry is making it _impossible_ to do so.

“No, re - ha - lly,” Ed tries to say, interrupting himself with a gasp when Harry presses into his prostate like he’s known it was there all along. It probably was a lucky shot, but it zings through him anyway and he tries to get his sluggish mind to focus again, but it’s not like his refusal of wanting to credit Harry with the pleasure he’s feeling is lessening the actual pleasure he’s feeling in any way. Harry backs off a bit, keeping his fingers wedged inside Ed, but still and instead presses kisses down the line of his spine, probably sinking to his knees slowly if how far down he goes is any indication. Ed uses the brief respite to just pull all the little baskets out into the sink and push his fingers through the contents, trying desperately not to think of a continuation of earlier because Harry’s mouth on his arse won’t make his mind any clearer either.

So of course that’s exactly what he gets.

“Fuck!” he curses, heartfelt, at the first poke of Harry’s tongue in between his fingers and his second hand slams down onto the sink as well. It shoots through his head how it’d be really bad if he put too much weight on it and broke it off, but that takes a lot more, doesn’t it? The random thought is pushed away when Harry uses his second hand to pull one of Ed’s buttocks to the side and sucks on his rim and his mind goes a little more fuzzy, his toes curling against the cold tiles and his knees shaking a little.

Do they really need a condom?

“Harry, I can’t find-” he starts and cuts himself off to suppress another moan.

“I can just get you off like this,” Harry says. Ed’s pretty sure he’s not imagining the tone of disappointment.

“No, no I want- want you inside.”

Harry lets out a frustrated groan and stands up again, pressing in close against Ed’s back this time and , _Jesus_ , he’s still wearing his _jeans_ for god’s sake.

“I - maybe I have, in my wallet,” he says.

“Please tell me it’s in your pocket.”

“No, I don’t- kitchen? I think? Maybe?”

It’s Ed’s turn to let out the frustrated groan now. Harry’s fingers are still fit snugly inside him and his thumb is flirting with the soft skin behind his balls. His fourth finger traces the rim of him, almost pushing in but not quite and he just doesn’t care about messy anymore.

“Fuck it. You’re clean, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Harry rushes to assure him, tucking his fourth finger inside as well and Ed positively keens at the stretch. It’s a tingling burn he can feel all the way from the top of his spine to the tips of his toes and he’s beginning to question why he went without it so long.

“Then just, just - do me,” Ed says.

“Fuck, Ed, you really want it,” Harry says, sounding a little overwhelmed himself for the first time and Ed leans his head back against his shoulder and revels in it.

“Mhm,” he agrees. “Really do.”

“Gonna fuck you so good,” Harry says and pulls his fingers out slowly, ignoring the displeased noise lodged in Ed’s throat at it. Ed can hear him pull open the buttons of his trousers and then pushing the fabric down. Then there are the slick sounds of Harry spreading lube over his dick and rubbing the excess into Ed’s hole before he presses in close and that’s - _oh_. Ed’s not entirely sure if it’s because it’s Harry - and it strikes him then that he’s not even _seen_ his cock yet - or because he hasn’t done this in a while, but it’s ... it’s something, alright. He breathes through the initial breach and tries not to bite his lip too hard at the warm and heavy pulse in his muscles around the intrusion. Harry holds Ed by the hip with one of his huge hands and puts the other next to his on the sink as he slides inside him smoothly. It’s when they’re pressed up against each other that Ed feels the scratch of denim on the back of his thighs.

“You slag didn’t even get out of your pants?”

Harry doesn’t dignify his comment with a verbal response, instead nipping at his shoulder sharply, before pulling back out slowly and pushing back in, building up a slow and steady rhythm. Right. Better than words. Harry’s still gripping hold of his hip with one strong hand, but the other one’s leaving its place on the sink and creeping up over his stomach and chest, pressing coolness into his overheated skin and making him shiver at the mixed sensations. Ed still clings to the sink and it’s only when he notices his arms straining a bit that he feels himself go up onto the balls of his feet again as Harry straightens up a little more behind him. It’s not much, probably not even an inch, but suddenly Ed’s balance is off again and he leans more heavily into Harry and feels the thrusts rock his body harder and it’s a little _more_. A little less control, a little more Harry and a little more intense and it drags a moan out of him like he can’t help himself.

“Fuck, Haz- y,” he slurs on a particularly harsh thrust that stabs his prostate dead on. Harry giggles into his shoulder but it sounds breathless.

“Hazzie?” he mocks and Ed knocks his head back against him.

“Got confused,” he explains. He really doesn’t think mushing up names can be held against him with Harry’s cock driving into him. He has more important things to think about. Or _not_ think about. Harry laughs a bit more and Ed’s lips involuntarily stretch into a grin because some part of him can recognise that it is a little funny and anyway, he likes the sound of Harry’s breathless, mid-fucking giggle.

Harry’s hand trails down Ed’s chest again, following the light dusting of hair that starts below his navel to the base of his dick. His fingers are a little clammy and cold and in contrast to the blood pulsing through Ed’s cock they feel almost cool when they wrap around him and begin to jerk him off slowly. Harry buries a grunt into his skin when Ed’s muscles clench and tighten up in automatic reaction and his grip around Ed tightens as well. It’s almost a vicious cycle, coaxing reactions out of each other, but it’s the best kind, bringing them both that much closer to the end they’re chasing. Ed’s legs are starting to shake and his arms are starting to ache, whipping his body into more of a hormonal frenzy and he’s pretty sure he’s stopped trying to fight the breathy moans that want to fall out of his mouth every time Harry catches his prostate just so.

“Close?” Harry asks, his hand still lazily milking Ed’s cock.

“Uh-huh,” is all he can give in ways of a response, eyes shut, because every time he opens them he catches sight of their reflection and Harry studying his face in the mirror and that’s just a bit too much to take right now.

“Gonna let me come inside you?” Harry whispers. “I’ll get you in the shower and lick it out of you after.”

Ed would laugh at the idea of _more_ of this, if he weren’t so busy enjoying what’s happening right now. His lack of reaction doesn’t seem to deter Harry though.

“Or I can just paint that pretty flushed skin of yours with my come. See how it looks running down your back. Hm? Which’ll it be?”

Frankly, Ed doesn’t really care, but just in case Harry really does- he wants-

“In- inside,” he says and his moan turns guttural when Harry really starts wanking him off. The muscles in his thighs and bum are locking up to keep him standing and Harry moans brokenly at the feeling.

“Fuck, Ed, so tight.”

There’s a retort in the back of Ed’s mind, something along the lines of _well, you’re the one making me stand on my tiptoes, don’t tell me you didn’t plan this, you sex fiend_ , but it has no hopes of actually falling off his lips. Harry twists his hand on the upstroke now, his thrusts stuttering, trying to bring Ed off before he tumbles over that delicious edge himself but in the end he fails. One of Ed’s hands leaves the sink, reaching around and behind himself to grab at Harry’s arse and he didn’t mean to, but one of his fingers brushes Harry’s own fluttering hole. It’s probably the shock of the sensation that sends him tumbling into his orgasm and he stills for a moment, Ed pushing up into his fist in frustration while he feels him pulse hotly inside him, before Harry comes back to himself. He re-doubles his efforts, squeezing a bit of lube onto Ed’s cock before dropping the bottle and bringing his second hand up to toy with his nipples. It only takes a few more firm, slick tugs for Ed to spill his own release into Harry’s hand and slump down onto the soles of his feet.

His heart and mind are racing in the aftermath of it and Harry passes his hands up and down Ed’s arms soothingly after he’s carefully pulled out of him. Ed turns in his hands so he can drop his forehead against his cheek, feeling Harry’s own quickened breath rush over his face. He smells of sweat and sex and weed and barbecue and it’s so _nice_. Ed itches to find words for this moment, notes all jumbled up in his head and begging for structure. Once he’s calmed his breathing down into something resembling normalcy, he trails his hands up over Harry’s chest and neck and pulls his face down into a languid kiss. He almost wants to thank Harry, but how clichéd would that be, so instead he takes a step back and tugs at Harry’s jeans.

“If you get out of these you can join me in the shower,” he says and then steps around Harry and into the shower cubicle without looking back. The sounds of Harry stripping are unmistakable anyway, as is the heat of his body crowding in behind him. They stand under the spray of water for a while, soaping each other up and flicking foam at each other until all the evidence of their romp is washed away. It’s then that Harry pushes Ed up against the tiled wall and his fingers back in between his arse cheeks before he goes back to his knees. Oh.

“Thought you were joking,” Ed says breathlessly.

“I don’t joke about sex," Harry says into his wet skin and even though Ed can tell he’s grinning, well, who’s he to argue?

  
**The End**


End file.
